THE REDEMPTION OF ANTHONY
"No, I suppose not."
"She'd laugh at us."
"Yes, she always laughs at things."
Again he glanced at her. "I suppose you liked it at school?"
"No."
"Oh, is that so? Why didn't you?"
"It would take four years really to tell you."
He laughed. "We'd better postpone it, then, for it's rather near dinner-time."
"Besides, I couldn't tell you, anyhow—you wouldn't understand."
"You don't think much of my intellect, then?"
"Oh, I think you're very great, but I don't think you could understand just a plain girl—like me."
Mrs. Martin came in, and he went to meet her, half-way across the room.
"Why, what's the matter?" he asked of her.
"Mother, may I be excused? I'm a little tired—I—"
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